


Bright Eyes

by musesmistress



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesmistress/pseuds/musesmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d been a little too slow at pulling over and the EMP had gone off before he could shut off the engine. Now they were stuck here, waiting for someone to drive by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Eyes

Peter watched her, standing in the middle of the road miles from anywhere. She was just like her mother, stubborn in ways Peter couldn’t help but find cute sometimes – especially now. Her hands on her hips Isobel stood there watching, waiting. They’d been forced to stop for the blackout. Every day in this area they had three of them. He’d been a little too slow at pulling over and the EMP had gone off before he could shut off the engine. Now they were stuck here, waiting for someone to drive by.

Olivia knew the route he was taking, but it would be at least three hours before she realised he hadn’t returned with Issy. She’d try his phone a few times first, figure he was too slow to remember the blackout and come looking for them. In the meantime he had his little girl standing watch. He couldn’t help but smile as she pivoted, turned and rested her hands back on her hips looking the other way up the road.

She let out a sigh. “I don’t think anyone is coming,” she said.

“It’s a long road, Issy. We have to give them time to drive down it.” She turned piercing green eyes on him, brighter than her mothers, much brighter than his own and twice as beautiful as he would have imagined.

“How long?” she asked, drawing out the ‘how’ in her question.

“As long as it takes, bright eyes.” He’d been calling her that since she was born, it was a true statement and Walter had quickly picked up on it and started singing the bright eyes song every time she was nearby. It always made Issy smile. “You want a juice box?” he asked moving to the trunk, listening as she sighed and then followed him. 

He pulled the apple carton from the box of supplies and slipped the straw out of the packet on the front and into the opening before handing it to his three year old daughter. There was so much they didn’t know about her, so much they were afraid to find out. They’d let Walter test her blood for cortexiphan when she was born, the traces were there, but Walter suspected they weren’t enough to do anything significant. That had made them relax, but as she grew, things began to happen.

It was always small things, toys that they’d watch her throw out of her crib would suddenly be back in her hand without either of them seeing it move or picking it up. At first they had assumed Walter had picked things up, but when it happened with either of them alone with her they began to wonder.

Finishing her drink and dropping the box in the rubbish bag in the trunk, Issy moved back to the middle of the road and stood looking back the way they’d come. He watched her as she tilted her head to one side, wondering what she was thinking.

“Someone’s coming,” she said at last and Peter turned to look up the road. Nothing.

“I don’t see anything,” he said. Then something glinted in the light before a shape began to form in the distance. There was a truck coming and she’d seen it a long time before he had. Perhaps there were advantages to some of the things she could do. He stepped out, took her wrist to draw her hand off her hip and walked her back to the side of the road. The truck drew nearer and much to his surprise, slowed to a stop beside them.

“You forget about the blackout?” The drive said, leaning out the window.

“No, just a little too slow for it,” Peter admitted. “Care to drop us somewhere in town? Little one’s mother will start to worry soon and my phone’s as dead as my car.”

“Sure, hop in.” Peter closed the trunk and swung Issy up into his arms before rounding the truck and climbing in with a smile and ‘Thanks’.


End file.
